


even though it burns

by sinceisawhim



Category: mcyt
Genre: Alternate Universe - Foster Family, Drug Use, Heavy Angst, Hurt No Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Suicide, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, Not Beta Read, Substance Abuse, angst with a somewhat happy ending, many things in this are based off my own experiences, sbi, techno and wilbur are trans
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-10
Updated: 2021-01-26
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:27:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27996747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinceisawhim/pseuds/sinceisawhim
Summary: from an outsiders perspective, the watson family seemed perfectly normal. no one could tell that this family was falling apart at the seams, made up of one problem child, one addict, one severely mentally ill teen, and one extremely worried father.
Relationships: Clay | Dream & Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Jschlatt & Wilbur Soot, Tubbo & Tommyinnit, Wilbur Soot & Technoblade & TommyInnit & Phil Watson
Comments: 30
Kudos: 298





	1. it always seems to fall in through

**Author's Note:**

> this is like, my second time writing mcyt, so apologies for anything thats ooc.  
> please make sure to read the tags, as this fic deals with a lot of heavy stuff. each chapter will have a specific cw/tw if needed.  
> plan is to update every week or so :) i have the entire fic planned out, so all i gotta do is write it. fair warning that i tend to have a hard time committing to fics though, motivation is a bitch, so if i forget to update just beat me over the head or smth /j /lh
> 
> (fic title is from reanimator by joji, chapter title is from la jolla by wilbur soot)

Techno didn’t like summer.

It was too hot where they lived, he got way too sweaty, and his hair was always sticking to the back of the neck, and it just wasn’t long enough for him to look good in a pony tail. He also didn’t like how harsh the sun was on his eyes. Summer had an overall bad vibe to it, and he constantly found his thoughts wandering towards the deep end. He couldn’t remember what had happened in summer, but he knew it was bad and it was the reason why he tended to spiral during summer.

Tommy liked summer.

It was the one season where he could consistently wear short-sleeved shirts and cargo shorts and not have to worry about the weather potentially changing midday and getting too cold for his outfit. Summer also meant that the pool was open, and he always loved going there with Tubbo, spending a ridiculous amount of money on snacks and bothering the other kids in the pool. The summer sun helped to lighten his blonde hair a smidge, and despite the fact that he always ended up getting sunburnt, he didn’t particularly mind. Summer was a good season for Tommy.

Wilbur took advantage of summer.

Every year, when summer finally rolled around and school ended, Wilbur spent nearly all his free time with Schlatt. The only times they weren’t together was when the two got into a fight, and luckily, this summer was fight-free so far. They were approaching a record without any fights, which, while to most people that would seem like a sign of a toxic friendship, to them it was something that they viewed as inevitable. In fact, they tended to make a joke of it more often than not, and the two knew they’d always come back together after a fight. Most of the time the fights were petty, anyways. Wilbur was a drama king, and Schlatt was stubborn as hell, and those two aspects of their personalities didn’t quite mix.

This summer was no exception to how the three usually felt about summer. Tommy hung around Tubbo a lot, taking lots of trips to the pool (Phil suggested to Tommy at one point that he could simply get a pool for the backyard so they wouldn’t have to go to the public one, but Tommy insisted that took away from the fun of it all), Wilbur spent the majority of every day at Schlatt’s apartment, and Techno holed up in his room away from the scorching summer sun.

A small sigh slipped past the pink-haired man’s lips as he leaned back in his chair after a long day of grinding on Minecraft. He was working on his potato farm in his, Wilbur’s, and Tommy’s realm, and it was going pretty well. The other two hadn’t been on the realm in a bit. While Tommy got on when he could, Wilbur hadn’t been on all summer. Techno felt his stomach drop a tiny bit thinking about it. He missed those late school nights where the three would secretly stay up playing. Now, it was mainly just Techno who played, and he was lonely. Sure, he got to brag about how many resources he had stocked up on when summer came to an end and his brothers started playing more frequently again, but that temporary satisfaction didn’t make up for the ache in his heart that he felt throughout almost the entirety of the summer.

Shutting down his computer, Techno got up and headed downstairs to grab a can of coke. He knew he probably should grab something to eat as well, but drinking was just so much easier and gave him that feeling of fullness in his stomach just like food did. He popped open the can, moving to leave the kitchen and go back upstairs. His eyes flicked over to the front door as it swung open. Wilbur was home, and a lot earlier than he normally came home, Techno noted. His eyebrows were furrowed and he slammed the door, causing Techno to flinch.

Wilbur’s cold gaze shifted over to Techno, who stood there awkwardly in the door frame to the kitchen.

“Hullo,” Techno finally spoke up, not quite sensing that Wilbur’s vibes were absolutely rancid at the moment. Wilbur scoffed in response, rolling his eyes, and headed upstairs, slamming the door to his room. Techno flinched again.

After a couple moments of standing there spacing out, he headed back up to his room and quietly shut the door. The moment that door was shut and he was in the privacy of his own room, his heart began to ache again.

He didn’t like how Wilbur was in the summer. He hardly talked to his family, he spent all his time at Schlatt’s, and whenever he wasn’t at Schlatt’s he was always pissed off. He just wasn’t the same Wilbur he knew during the other seasons. He’d mentioned to Phil his first summer here that Wilbur seemed to spend an unhealthy amount of time at Schlatt’s, but Phil told him not to worry about it and that the two were very good friends and it was normal for them to hang out a lot.

That didn’t reassure Techno one bit, or stop him from worrying about Wilbur. Why was he so different during the summer? Maybe it was something similar to seasonal depression?

It wouldn’t kill to check up on him either, right?

Taking a deep breath to reassure himself, Techno took a long sip of his coke before setting it down on his bedside table and slipping out of his room. He ended up standing outside Wilbur’s doorway for a solid 5 minutes, which seemed like ages to Techno, before he finally knocked on his door.

“What?” Wilbur snapped. Techno winced at his sharp tone.

“Can I come in?”

There was a few moments of silence, then shuffling, and then a click. Techno released a breath he hadn’t even been aware he’d been holding, and opened the door, finding Wilbur sitting on his bed with a slightly crumpled paper and pencil. His disposable lay idly by his side, and Techno blinked before shifting his gaze away from it.

“Watcha doin’?” He asked, not trying to annoy Wilbur with an ‘are you ok?’. He knew Wilbur hated being asked that, and would probably kick him out of his room if he did.

Wilbur groaned, throwing his head back. “I’m trying to write an apology letter to Schlatt. The bastard blocked me so this is my last resort.”

Techno hummed, shuffling over to Wilbur’s bed and sitting down at the foot of it. “Can’t you just call him usin’ the house phone?” He suggested. Wilbur shot him a look, silently telling him that no, he couldn’t, he had to do this. Techno averted his eyes and stared at the floor. He began to pick at his nails, listening to the quiet scribbles from Wilbur’s pencil as he began to write. The noise would stop for a while, then start up again, creating a steady pattern that Techno found himself focusing on.

“Did you want something?” Wilbur finally asked, breaking the silence, and Techno’s head shot up to look at him. He stared for a minute, then shook his head, looking back down.

“Not really. Jus’ miss you, that’s all.”

Wilbur snickered. “Aw, you miss me~?” He teased, poking Techno’s side with his foot playfully.

“I will stab you,” Techno warned, though there was that slight hint of playfulness in his voice that was hard to pick up on by most, but easy for Wilbur after having lived with him for over 4 years now.

“I’d like to see you try, shrimp-boy.”

With a toothy grin, Techno dived on top of him, messing his hair up as a quick distraction before snatching the glasses off his face and running downstairs. He heard Wilbur yell after him, and footsteps quickly approaching from behind him.

Suddenly the two were on the floor, and Wilbur grabbed his glasses back before rolling off of Techno, standing up and brushing himself off. Techno wheezed, gazing up at the brunette as he put his glasses back on, not even bothering to get up himself.

“You prick,” Wilbur quipped, though there was no malice in his tone, just the vibes of an annoyed brother. His lips were upturned into a soft smile though, and Techno couldn’t help but smile in turn. This was his brother, the brother he knew during all the other seasons, the brother that wasn’t so negatively affected by summertime’s vibes and actually spent time with his family. The brother he missed.

“What are you smiling at you dork?” Wilbur leaned forward, locking eyes with Techno as he looked down at him.

“Whaddya think?”

“Why do you think I asked?” Wilbur retorted with a roll of his eyes.

“I just-” Techno’s throat seemed to close up as he began to speak. He shouldn’t mention anything. He didn’t want to taint this moment with Wilbur. “-think you look fuckin’ stupid.”

“Shut up.” Wilbur lightly kicked his side.

“Ow,” He said in his usual monotone voice.

“You suck. I’m going back upstairs, I gotta finish that dumb letter.” Wilbur flashed Techno a smile before disappearing upstairs, shutting his door quietly for the first time today.

Techno sighed. His good mood had dropped the second Wilbur was out of his view. Maybe he was just overthinking this whole thing. Maybe Techno mostly noticed when Wilbur was angry, and rarely noticed when he was happy. Besides, if he had a close friend like Schlatt and he got into a fight with them, he’d probably be pretty irritated too. Wilbur spent almost all his time with Schlatt, so he supposed it made sense that he’d be so pissed off whenever he was home since that meant the two were in a fight.

He still missed hanging out with Wilbur, though.

“Techno?” His train of thought was interrupted by a higher pitched voice. “What- why are you on the floor?”

“Floor good,” Techno responded plainly to his younger brother.

“You look fucking stupid.”

“You sound fuckin’ stupid,” Techno clapped back. Tommy feigned offense.

“Rude. At least I don’t have pink hair. You look like a shrimp.”

“When will you and Wilbur drop the shrimp thing? We’ve discussed this, I don’t look like a shrimp.”

Tommy cackled. “Nothing will make us drop it, SHRIMP-BOY.” He cackled again, and Techno groaned. He was convinced Tommy was a hyena in a human body with that laugh. “Where is Wilbur, anyway? Is he still at Schlatt’s?”

“Didn’t you see his car in the driveway?”

“Nah, don’t pay attention to my surroundings.”

“Fair enough. He’s upstairs. I wouldn’t bother him though.”

Tommy snickered. “You say that like I listen to you.”

“I’m serious, Toms.” Techno finally got up, looking Tommy directly in the eyes. “He and Schlatt got into a fight.”

“Again?”

“Yes, again.”

“You’d think they’d get tired of fighting so much. They’re literally an old married couple, it’s so gross.”

Techno snorted. “You can say that twice.”

-

Wilbur felt like he was going to pass out at any moment.

It had started earlier today. Actually, the whole situation had definitely started before then- long, long before then-, but Wilbur didn’t particularly recognize a potential problem with it all. Not at the moment, at least.

He’d been at Schlatt’s. The two made up after Schlatt read the letter he wrote, and now Wilbur was getting himself another disposable. His had died the day before, when he was writing the letter. He luckily had about $15 on him so he had hoped that Schlatt would accept his apology so he wouldn’t have to wait a while before getting a new disposable.

He was handing Schlatt the wad of bills when he noticed something on Schlatt’s table. It looked sort of like a vape, but not like any of the one’s Schlatt had. It took him a moment to process what it was.

“Is that a pen?” He piped up, nodding over to the object with his head.

“Yeah. Why, you want one?” Schlatt asked, quickly counting the money before stuffing it into his pocket.

“Don’t those have weed?” Wilbur blinked, his gaze resting unevenly on the pen.

“Yeah, they have fuckin' weed. You want it or not? That one’s used so I’ll give it to you for free. You gotta pay me five bucks extra next time you get shit though.”

Wilbur considered for a moment. He’d never tried weed, or gotten high off of anything for that matter. He’d always stuck to nicotine, even though he hardly ever felt the buzz anymore and all it gave him was shakes and occasional trouble breathing. He was addicted, what more could he say?

“...Yeah, I’ll take it,” Wilbur finally answered, a slither of caution apparent in his voice.

“Alright man.” Schlatt grabbed the pen and handed it to Wilbur, who hastily shoved it in his pocket alongside his disposable. He turned to leave, muttering a small thanks, before Schlatt grabbed him by the wrist.

“What?”

“Thought I should mention, you can’t hit that like you do with your vape.” Wilbur rolled his eyes. “Seriously, man! This shit’s not the same, you haven’t even had above 6% nic-”

“Yeah, because you won’t give me anything above that,” Wilbur interrupted with a quip. Schlatt furrowed his eyebrows.

“Shut up. I’m not trying to help you kill yourself faster by giving you anything stronger. I’m just saying, take one short hit and leave it alone for a couple hours. Trust me.”

“I know what I’m fucking doing, Schlatt,” Wilbur snapped. He didn’t know why he was getting so upset with Schlatt- the man was literally the reason he was still sane right now, giving him nic and now weed-, yet at the same time he couldn’t quite help it. He had a lot of pent up anger. He knew that, but he didn’t ever get around to doing anything about it. It was easier to bottle it up.

“Whatever, Wil, just don’t say I didn’t warn ya.” Schlatt’s tone was serious, and yet Wilbur still brushed him off like his words meant nothing.

“Yeah, bye, Schlatt,” he muttered.

“You’re really not gonna stay a bit?”

Wilbur only shrugged before finally leaving Schlatt’s apartment.

-

He’d stuck with nic for most of the day after getting home. It was his go-to, after all. But his mind constantly wandered to the pen he’d hid in his bed frame. He was somewhat scared to try it. There’s a first for everything though, right?

When he first hit it, all he felt was a burning sensation at the back of his throat that caused him to practically cough up a lung. He was shaking, ever so slightly, but assumed that was the nic shakes. So he took another hit. And when he felt nothing but the same as before, he took another. And another. Until he was laying on his floor, staring up at the ceiling as his LED lights flashed all sorts of colours and he had not a thought in the world.

Yeah, Wilbur did not know what he was doing. Not that he realized it in the moment, since his brain had basically shut off, but it’d be clear to him soon enough.

Everything was ok, though. He was ok now. And as long as he had this pen, he’d stay that way, he thought. Because this was it. This was the feeling he’d been craving his entire life. All his 17 years of living, all those years of trying to find a way to make himself feel better, to feel himself, those years of pain and dysphoria and trauma- they’ve all resulted in this. This euphoric feeling that Wilbur had been chasing all his life. He finally had it. And he could have it whenever he wanted to. He was saved, now. This euphoria was all he ever needed.

He didn’t notice when Tommy came into his room and found him nearly passed out on the floor, laying on his back with his arms out. He hardly noticed when Tommy got all up in his face, and that grin he usually wore quickly fell off his face and was replaced by an expression of shock and fear. He couldn’t hear a thing when both his brothers were now in his room, his little brother scared out of his mind because he’d never seen Wilbur like this- he’d never seen Wilbur in a bad state at all, in fact- and his older brother doing his best to comfort him. He couldn’t see when his little brother was sent to his room. He could only feel his body tingling, could only feel his hot ears and dry mouth, could only hear static and could only focus on how nice it felt to feel like he was floating.

And suddenly he was back on the ground, barely brought back to reality by Techno slapping him in the face as hard as he could.

He mumbled something incoherent, but couldn’t find any strength in him to move his limbs and didn’t even know what he’d tried to say. He was slapped again. Two more times until Techno realized that the only thing he could do was sit on the floor with him and wait it out. Wilbur’s head was gently moved onto his brother’s lap now as he let him play with his hair.

-

Techno was worried. He was more worried than he’d been all summer.

He was well aware of Wilbur’s nicotine addiction. Tommy was too. Though the three all had this agreement not to tell Phil, because it wasn’t something directly endangering Wilbur at the time, and it helped Wilbur stay calm.

But now, Wilbur was diving. He had smoked weed, Techno could easily tell by how red his eyes were and how absolutely _zonked_ Wilbur was. He’d learned in school that weed was a gateway drug, and that only brought an influx of worries into his mind. What if Wilbur started doing other drugs too? This could have just been a one time thing, sure, but Techno was willing to bet against that since Wilbur had said the same thing the first time Techno caught him vaping.

It’d been nearly two hours, and Wilbur was just starting to come down from his high. Barely, but at least he was able to speak coherently now.

“Your hair,” Wilbur mumbled, staring up at him.

“My hair?” Techno raised a quizzical eyebrow, twirling a cowlick at the top of Wilbur’s head around his fingers.

“The roots. They’re growing out.” Wilbur spoke slowly. Techno snorted.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. It looks good.”

Techno stared at Wilbur for a few moments, before moving his gaze elsewhere and suppressing a sigh. His roots were growing out, and while usually he’d go get his hair redyed the second he noticed they were showing, he actually hadn’t noticed until Wilbur pointed it out. He wasn’t even sure when the last time he really looked in a mirror was. He only went to the bathroom to, y’know, go to the bathroom. He hadn’t felt like brushing his teeth lately, or his hair. He just couldn’t be bothered with basic self care at the moment, and it’s not like he was going out anywhere, so it didn’t really matter.

“This is nice.”

“For you, maybe,” Techno’s monotone voice was laced with a careful bitterness. If Wilbur noticed, he didn’t care. On second thought, he probably didn’t notice.

“This feels so.. _good_.”

“You’re gonna feel like shit later.” Techno commented.

“...Huh?”

“Nothing.” Techno shook his head.

“..Can I go to bed?”

“Why are you asking me?”

Wilbur laughed, an airy and carefree laugh, before slowly closing his eyes.

Techno finally let out a long sigh. Hopefully Wilbur would be sober by the time Phil got home. That meant he only had about an hour, though, and Wilbur seemed way higher than someone should usually get from smoking weed. Maybe he smoked too much. Techno didn’t know anything about this kind of stuff, so he couldn’t say.

Gently moving Wilbur’s head off his lap, he stood, stretching his legs before kneeling back down to pick Wilbur up and put him in bed.

He stared at Wilbur for a moment. He looked so peaceful. He hadn’t seen his brother so at peace in so long. Even during good moments, there was always this tension he held in his shoulders. That tension was completely gone.

He had considered telling Phil about this, but maybe not. He’d have to talk with Wilbur later, but for now, he just had to make sure Tommy didn’t tell Phil either.

Techno slipped out of Wilbur’s room, shutting the door softly as to not wake him, and knocked on Tommy’s door. His room was directly across from Wilbur’s, and the hallway was small, so he only had to turn around to get to it,

“Yeah?” Tommy opened the door for Techno. His voice was hoarse, and his eyes looked slightly puffy.

“We’re not going to tell Phil about this, got it?” Techno stated, his gaze firm as he held eye contact with his little brother.

“What? Why? What did Wilbur even do?”

“He smoked weed. Probably too much. I’m gonna talk with him later, just.. Don’t tell Phil. Please. For Wilbur’s sake.”

Tommy huffed. “Fine. But he better not do that shit again. It’s fucking scary.”

“He won’t.” That was an empty promise, a promise that Techno shouldn’t have been making, especially knowing how Wilbur was, but he wanted Tommy to feel at least a little better.

“Okay.”

“Wil’s asleep. Don’t bother him.” With that, Techno headed to the comfort of his own room. He heard Tommy’s door squeak loudly as he closed it.

Techno hoped to a God he didn’t believe in that Wilbur would be ok.


	2. some will be alright

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> maybe i just speedrun this entire fic
> 
> (chapter title from bang bang bang bang by sohodolls)

Dinner passed uneventfully that evening. Neither Techno nor Tommy mentioned anything to Wilbur, and by the time Phil got home and cooked up dinner, nobody could tell that the brunette had been high out of his mind only a couple hours earlier.

It was shortly after dinner that Techno slipped into Wilbur’s room. He usually knocked, but he was too preoccupied with the thought that he had to talk with Wilbur that he forgot, and he walked in on Wilbur coughing around a cloud of smoke. It was gone as soon as he saw it, instead replaced by Wilbur swinging his arm to clear the smoke.

“Jesus _christ_ , Tech, knock first!” He spat after recovering from his cough attack. “I thought you were Phil, holy shit.” He said the last part in a whisper, as the door was still slightly opened. He motioned for Techno to close it.

“Sorry.” Techno shut the door.

“It’s fine. Did you want something?” Wilbur paused. “Or did you just miss me again?” He teased, a smirk sneaking its way onto his lips. Techno blinked, blank expression unchanging.

“I actually, uh, wanted to talk. About earlier.”

The smirk faded from Wilbur’s lips as soon as the words left his mouth, and Techno couldn’t help the guilt that overcame him. Maybe he should’ve left the situation alone and just let Wilbur do whatever.

“I just got a little too high. Nothing else to talk about.”

“Y’know weed’s a gateway drug, right?” Techno stood awkwardly in front of the door, shifting his weight from one side to the other.

“What?”

“I just don’t want you to spiral, Wil,” Techno continued, ignoring Wilbur’s question. “You really scared Tommy.”

‘ _And me, too,_ ’ Techno wanted to add, but he kept his mouth shut.

“Tommy was there?” Wilbur furrowed his eyebrows.

“Jeez, you don’t even remember? He was the one who found you zonked on the floor.”

“I don’t remember shit. I only remember how nice it felt.”

Techno shifted nervously. Wilbur clearly picked up on that nervous energy and shot him a look. He felt almost guilty for what he was about to ask, but he knew it wasn’t completely unreasonable. He was worried about Wilbur.

“I don’t want you to do that again.”

“And what’re you gonna do if I do?” Wilbur shot back, a dangerous glint in his eyes.

“I’ll tell Phil,” Techno deadpanned. The look in Wilbur’s eyes only got more dangerous. Techno wasn’t scared of it by any means, but it made him uneasy to see his brother like this. It wasn’t a side he showed often.

“You wouldn’t.”

Techno hesitated. Wilbur was right, he probably wouldn’t. Techno averted his gaze and opted to stare at the lamp on Wilbur’s nightstand. “Can you just promise me that you won’t do it again.” It was less of a question, and more of a demand.

There was an irritated groan before he finally got an answer. “Fine. It was a one time thing anyway.”

Well, that didn’t help to settle Techno’s nerves at all. It only brought back the worry that he’d do it again, and then who knows how long it’d be til he started doing other things. Techno knew weed wasn’t necessarily _bad_ , some people used it to help with anxiety and whatnot, but he also knew that it wouldn’t be good if Wilbur grew dependent on it like he did with nicotine.

“Okay,” Techno answered simply. “Thanks.” With that, he left.

He heard doors opening and closing shortly after, the jangle of keys and a quick exchange of voices that he couldn’t make out from where he was upstairs. He assumed Wilbur had left for Schlatt’s.

Again.

Like he always did.

Dull pink strands of hair fell in front of Techno’s face as he layed in bed, scrolling through Twitter on his phone in an attempt to distract himself. It didn’t work. His mind was racing.

Wilbur was at Schlatt’s. Schlatt was a drug dealer. Schlatt gave Wilbur nic. Schlatt was most definitely the one Wilbur got weed from. It didn’t take a genius to connect the dots.

He should’ve _known_ Wilbur wouldn’t keep his promise. He was shit at keeping promises.

“Fuck,” he mumbled to himself as he ran a hand through his hair. It was greasy, but that was the least of Techno’s worries right now.

What if Wilbur was already spiraling? What if he was doing something worse than weed or nic already? He would have no clue by the time Wilbur got home. He wouldn’t be surprised if Wilbur slept over, in fact. Maybe he should tell Phil right now. Get it all over with, and come clean. But then he’d be a hypocrite. It was for Wilbur’s own sake that Phil didn’t find out about any of this. He’d said so himself just today. So why did it feel so _wrong_ to be basically supporting his brothers addiction?

At least he had Schlatt, Techno reminded himself. They were friends. Despite their on-off relationship, they were friends. Schlatt wouldn’t give Wilbur anything that would seriously fuck him up, right? Friends don’t do that.

‘ _Not like you’d know,_ ’ a thought in the back of his head chimed in. He shook it away. That wasn’t a good sign.

Without thinking twice, he was up and out of bed, and heading to Tommy’s room. It took him less than 10 seconds, really. Their rooms were right next to each other. He knocked, and waited a few short seconds that seemed like an eternity before Tommy opened the door.

“What’s up, Big T?” Tommy’s brash and cheerful voice was already bringing Techno’s mood up. He just had that effect on people, he supposed. His loud and outgoing personality attracted people in general, he noticed, whether that was for better or worse.

“Don’t call me that,” Techno replied, his low monotone voice a stark contrast in comparision to Tommy’s. He walked right past Tommy, making a beeline for the corner of the room and flopping down face first onto the bed.

“Hey!” Tommy barked, closing the door.

“What? Your bed’s comfy.” Techno’s voice was slightly muffled by Tommy’s pillows.

“Yeah, well, maybe if you didn’t sleep on your old mattress in the middle of the floor-”

Techno held up a finger to silence him. Tommy stuttered with noises of offense, before jumping on top of him. The kid was tall and lanky and surprisingly light, so luckily him doing that didn’t break Techno’s back. If it was Wilbur-

Techno’s train of thought stopped right there as Wilbur slipped back into his mind.

“I’m worried about Wilbur.” The words left his mouth faster than he could filter them.

“What?” Tommy practically shouted in his ear. Techno cringed, and pushed him off. He sat up, leaning against the headboard with his knees to his chest. He might as well talk about it with Tommy. There wasn’t much of a use in sheltering him from this stuff, even if he was only 15. He’d be turning 16 soon enough.

Techno blinked. It felt like it wasn’t even that long ago that Phil had taken in another foster kid, a newly turned 13 year old who got into one too many fights at school and seemed to bring only trouble wherever he went. It was mind boggling to Techno how Tommy had managed to change so much from that angry, scrawny kid he used to be in just 2 years. Techno had been with Phil since he was 15, and he felt that the only progress he’d made was that he didn’t try to run away every chance he got. 4 years, and that was it? God, he was pathetic.

“-llo? Earth to Techno?” Techno was snapped out of his thoughts by Tommy obnoxiously waving his hand right in front of his face.

“What?”

“You were saying something about Wilbur?” Tommy questioned, leaning his head back against the headboard and stretching his legs out.

“Oh. Yeah. I’m worried about him.”

Tommy chewed his lip nervously and let out a sigh. “Me too, Tech. Me too.”

“I just- what if he spirals, Tommy?”

“Spirals?” Techno forgot that Tommy wasn’t as well versed about drugs as he was. Not that he was very knowledgeable about the subject either, but he’d done a big essay on them a couple years back, so he knew enough.

“Does other drugs. Drugs worse than weed.”

“Aren’t all drugs bad?” Tommy furrowed his eyebrows.

“Some. Depends on how you use ‘em.” Techno shrugged.

“...I’m guessing Wilbur wouldn’t be using them the way they’re supposed to be used?”

Techno shook his head. “Nope.”

“So, why don’t we just tell Phil everything? Get it all over with?”

“It’s not that easy, Tommy.” Techno sighed. He wished it _was_ as easy as Tommy thought it was. “Wilbur is very dependent on nicotine, and Phil will take that away if he finds out. Then he’ll go through withdrawals, and who knows how that’ll make him act.” Techno looked over at Tommy, who was picking at a loose strand of fabric on his shirt. “It’s for Wilbur’s own sake that we keep this a secret. Nicotine helps him stay calm, and I assume weed does as well. So for now, all we can really do is just check up on him, I guess.”

Tommy was quiet for a little while before he finally spoke up. “What about the long run? Is this really best for him in the long run?”

Techno felt his throat tighten, and it took all his willpower to respond to his little brother’s question.

“I don’t know, Tommy. I don’t know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comments are very very appreciated, they keep me motivated to work on this, which means faster updates :)


	3. toss your dirty shoes in my washing machine heart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (chapter title from washing machine heart by mitski)

“Just fuck off, Wil! And don’t come back til you get that stick outta your fuckin’ ass!”

The words repeated over and over in Wilbur’s head as he drove home. He almost ran a red light multiple times, and honestly, he probably should’ve just hung around the outlet near Schlatt’s apartment complex instead of driving while he was high as fuck.

Too late for second thoughts now.

He let the shitty music on the radio blast in his car, earning a glare from a few people on the road since his window was cranked wide open. It was summer, and his car was _black_ , why the fuck wouldn’t he have his window open?

“Idiots,” he muttered bitterly as he took a sharp left turn. He yelped as he drove over a pothole, anger bubbling up inside him. He was already pissed from his argument with Schlatt, and this was the icing on top of the cake.

“Fix your fucking roads!” He shouted, looking back at the pothole, as if somehow the pothole would be able to hear him and fix itself. He groaned and whipped his head back around to keep an eye on the road so he wouldn’t crash into anything.

A few minutes later, he pulled up into the driveway of his house. He turned off the ignition, but ended up just sitting in his car, throwing his head back against the seat and sighing. He really didn’t want to be home right now. Not after he promised Techno he wouldn’t get high again. He didn’t have eyedrops, and a quick look in the rear view mirror confirmed his suspicions that his eyes were red as _fuck_.

Whatever. Techno wouldn’t snitch even if he did notice he was high. He’d probably be disappointed, sure, but they had an agreement.

Stumbling out of his car, Wilbur slammed the door shut and fumbled with his keys. It took him a moment for him to find the house key, and another moment for him to actually open the door.

The house was quiet. Tommy must be hanging out with Tubbo. Wilbur had no doubt in his mind that Techno was home, though. He was always home. Despite him having his own car and the freedom to go basically wherever he wanted to, he never went out. Wilbur couldn’t even begin to understand why. Being at home was so confining and there was usually nothing to do, so he didn’t have a clue why Techno seemed to enjoy it.

“Hullo.”

Wilbur jumped at the sudden voice coming from the doorway to the kitchen. He glanced over, spotting Techno leaning against the door frame, sipping away at a can of coke.

“Hey.” It took him way longer than it should have for him to get one simple word out. Techno stared at him, but showed no emotion. If he noticed he was high- which, how could he not, Wilbur’s eyes were literally bloodshot-, he wasn’t saying anything yet.

“You’re home early.”

“Yeah.”

Techno took an excruciatingly long sip of his coke. “Did you get in another fight with Schlatt?”

The words stung Wilbur more than he would ever admit.

“He’s just a dick,” Wilbur replied, the words slowly tumbling out of his mouth. He avoided actually answering the question. Techno already knew the answer. He didn’t have to put salt on the wound by asking.

Techno nodded, and left the conversation at that. Wilbur couldn’t tell what was going through his head, as hard as he tried to by staring holes into the back of his pink locks as he slipped past Wilbur and headed upstairs.

-

He knew it.

Wilbur was shit at keeping promises.

Techno wasn’t mad, not by a long shot. But he was so _worried_ , despite the fact that Wilbur seemed to be just fine when he came home today. He was very clearly under the influence, he could tell from his eyes, but aside from that and the fact it took him forever to process what was being said to him, it wasn’t too obvious. With a bit of effort, he could pass as sober.

Which only made Techno more worried. How long until Wilbur grew so used to weed that he went and tried other things?

Maybe he was just overreacting. Was it really right of him to assume that Wilbur would try more drugs? He had no reason to think that. Did that make him a bad person for assuming the worst of his brother?

‘ _You just don’t want him to be happy_ ,’ a thought from the back of his head spat. That wasn’t true. He _knew_ that wasn’t true, the whole point of him not telling Phil was to keep Wilbur happy, and yet his brain was trying to desperately to convince him it was true.

‘ _This is the only thing keeping him happy, and you want to take that away?_ ’ The thoughts continued, and Techno gripped his hair tightly. He pulled, relishing in the feeling of his roots being tugged harshly against his skin in an attempt to distract himself from his thoughts.

Eventually everything was quiet again, and he weakly let go of his hair. It fell in front of his face in strands. He knew he needed a shower, but at the same time, why bother? He wasn’t going out.

Techno’s eyes flicked over to the window. It would be so easy to just run. He could run away and he’d never have to worry about his brothers again, he’d never have to stress over whether or not he should finally tell Phil what was going on with Wilbur. He could start anew, far away from their cozy home in the suburbs, and nobody would ever know what happened to him.

“What the hell?” He spoke out to no one in particular in a raspy, hushed voice. He was past this kind of thinking. He had a good family, a good life, so why was he thinking about throwing it all away because he didn’t want to deal with a bit of stress?

Reaching for his phone from his desk, he swiped open to his contacts. He let his finger hover over Phil’s contact button for a couple excruciatingly long moments. He watched as his thumb shook over the icon, a picture he’d took of Phil by surprise one summer at the beach. Back when they still went to the beach.

He put his phone down.

Phil was at work. He didn’t need to bother him. He was probably fine, anyways. Passing thoughts didn’t really mean anything in the long run as long as he never acted on them. And just because that voice was back, that mimicking voice that used to plague his mind day and night with terrible thoughts, didn’t mean he was any worse. He probably just needed a higher med dosage.

His breath hitched. When was the last time he took his meds?

Techno headed downstairs, blocking out the bickering he could hear from behind Wilbur’s door as he passed it, and went straight to the kitchen. He rummaged around the cabinet, quickly finding his pill bottle and shaking it only to hear nothing. It was empty.

How long had it been empty for?

He stood in the kitchen, staring at the pill bottle in hand for longer than he probably should’ve, before he shakily put it back into the cabinet and headed back upstairs. This was fine, he could just call for a refill.

He pulled up the number for the pharmacy, and upon staring at it for a solid few minutes, he realized he couldn’t just call for a refill.

Fuck social anxiety.

He swiped out of google and into his messages, where he went to text Phil to get him to do it. He ignored the guilty feeling bubbling up in his stomach. He was 19, for fuck’s sake, why couldn’t he do this one simple thing?

Techno: i need a refill on my meds

Dad: Okay, I’ll call after work

Techno released a shaky breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding in.

It was fine.

-

There was a loud knock at Wilbur’s door. He groaned, knowing exactly who it was. Each of his family members had a different style of knocking, and this knock belonged to the one and only _gremlin child_.

“Wilby? Can I come in?”

Oh, fuck.

Tommy didn’t call him Wilby unless he was upset or something. He also seemed to have the worst timing ever, as Wilbur was relatively high right now. He slowly sat up, taking a few moments to get to the door and open it for Tommy.

Tommy’s eyes glanced up and locked with his. Wilbur watched as worry flashed across his eyes, his little brother clearly noticing how high he looked. He said nothing, though, and slipped past Wilbur into his room. Wilbur shut the door and headed right back to his bed.

Tommy sat at the foot of his bed, twiddling with his thumbs. Wilbur leaned against the wall, staring at Tommy.

“What’s up, Toms?” He spoke slowly so he could process the words as they came out and not stumble over them. Tommy shifted uneasily.

“How’d you figure out you were bi?” Tommy asked suddenly. Wilbur blinked, taken aback by the question. He was convinced Tommy was coming in here to talk about the night he walked in on him high, not a possible sexuality crisis.

He took a deep breath. “It took me a long time,” he begun. “I had a lot of internalized homophobia from my bio dad.” He paused. He hadn’t talked about this to anyone other than Schlatt. He almost didn’t want to tell Tommy, but there was no real point in keeping it from him either.

He continued. “So when I realized I was trans, I got really confused. There was a bit of internalized transphobia too, so it felt wrong for me to like women because technically I’m still, y’know-” He glanced at Tommy, who nodded in understanding. “But I _am_ a dude, so it felt wrong to like men too. And it took a lot of time of fighting myself to realize that it was even _ok_ to like anyone at all. So then I just decided I was straight, and didn’t spare it a second thought.” He swallowed. “Then when Techno came out as gay, I started thinking about my sexuality again. I hadn’t had a crush on anyone for a long time, so I was like ok, maybe I’m aromantic, and stuck with that. I didn’t tell anyone. Then I got a big crush on this guy, and thought I was gay. Then I got a crush on a girl, and finally realized that I was bi.”

Tommy sat there, thinking. Wilbur didn’t say anything, mostly because it took all his brainpower to tell that story right now without messing up, but also because he wanted Tommy to have time to process it and think.

“I’ve only ever had crushes on girls,” Tommy eventually spoke up. “But I think guys are attractive too. So I don’t really know.”

“It’s difficult to know. You could ask Techno too.”

“I might.” Tommy paused. “Thanks, Wil.”

“Yeah.”

Tommy stood up, heading towards the door. Wilbur’s gaze followed him, and he could’ve sworn he saw a look of sadness flicker in his baby blue eyes as he glanced back at Wilbur, then left the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the real angst begins next chapter so get ready. it's only downhill from there.


	4. and now the sun is up, i'm coming down

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this update took so long i burnt myself out WHOOPS
> 
> (chapter title from sex money feelings die by lykke li)

Techno wasn’t doing so good. He hadn’t been before- not that he took much notice to it-, but it was growing worse as the days dragged on.

He was consistently forgetting to take his meds, and he didn’t even realize it. He had taken them once when he got them refilled, and hadn’t since. It’d been almost two weeks.

It just wasn’t something that seemed all too important to Techno right now, despite the fact that he was getting worse without fully realizing and his thoughts in the back of his head that he tried so desperately to ignore were getting worse and more constant.

He knocked at Wilbur’s door. He was the only one home right now, and his thoughts were just _too goddamn loud_. He needed a distraction.

There was no answer, so he knocked again, this time louder. “Wil?”

“Yeah?” Wilbur called out.

“Can I come in?” Techno sounded almost desperate, and it made him want to curl in on himself. He hated sounding so weak.

‘ _You are weak,_ ’ His thoughts supplied, and Techno shook his head as if that’d convince his brain to suddenly shut up.

There were a few moments of silence before Techno heard quiet shuffling and then a click as Wilbur opened the door.

“Thanks,” Techno muttered, heading inside Wilbur’s room. Wilbur leaned against the wall next to the door for a few moments, seemingly out of it, before he balanced himself back on his feet and closed the door. He practically collapsed onto his bed, while Techno sat down at the foot of it as he usually did.

Wilbur didn’t say anything, instead staring up at the ceiling and most likely zoning out. Techno sighed.

“Can you play me a song?” He asked, turning his head to look at Wilbur. He didn’t even move or acknowledge him, which left a sour feeling in Techno’s chest. “Wilbur.”

“Huh?” Wilbur’s gaze slowly drifted from the ceiling to Techno.

“Why do you always break your promises, Wil?” Techno suddenly blurted out, his mouth moving faster than his brain. Wilbur stared at Techno. The sour feeling sunk into his stomach, beginning to bubble. He felt sick. “You know I’m just worried about you, Wilbur. I don’t-”

“Techno, Techno,” Wilbur interrupted, pushing himself up so he could make better eye contact with Techno. “There’s no reason for you to be worried. I feel fucking _great_ , dude.”

“Wilbur, I just-”

“Techno, c’mon, dude,” Wilbur continued. Techno furrowed his eyebrows. “Don’t you want me to be happy?”

There was a sharp pang in Techno’s chest. The sour feeling rose into his throat for a moment, tasting like bile. He started pulling at the strands of hair framing his angular face. They fell in clumps due to his greasy hair, which make them easier to grab a hold of.

“I do, Wil, I really do.” His voice cracked as he spoke.

“Then let me have this.”

Techno wanted to scream. He wanted to sob and to grab Wilbur by the collar of his shirt and shake some sense into him. He _knew_ Wilbur, and he _knew_ that there was no way that Wilbur’s addiction would stop at just weed. He was impulsive and prone to trying new things just for the hell of it.

Techno did none of those things. Instead, he nodded. “Okay.”

-

Techno was a hypocrite.

He realized this as soon as he headed downstairs after hearing Phil’s car pull into the driveway.

Being a hypocrite was better than being a liar, though, one could argue. One could also argue that Techno was a liar as well, but he didn’t want to think on that. Being a hypocrite didn’t feel good, but it felt better. It felt more suitable for Techno, in his own eyes.

Techno was already at the bottom of the stairs as Phil opened the door, heading in with Tommy following behind him. The two were carrying groceries, and Phil smiled at Techno, turning to begin unpacking. Techno didn’t smile back. Instead, he locked eyes with Tommy, an almost apologetic look flashing across his icy blue irises. Tommy shot back a confused look.

“Can we talk, Phil?” Techno asked, his voice quieter than usual.

“Sure, Tech, what about?” Phil replied as Tommy began to help him with putting the groceries away.

“It’s, um,” Techno swallowed thickly. There was no backing out of this now. “I’m worried about Wilbur.”

Tommy froze, nearly dropping the carton of milk in hand. He whipped his head around to look at Techno.

“Is he okay?” Phil’s tone quickly changed to that of a worried fathers, and he approached Techno.

“I don’t think so.” Techno paused. “He’s-” Techno’s voice shook as he spoke, that same sour feeling from earlier reigniting in his stomach. “He’s smoking weed and vaping. I’m scared he’s gonna start doing worse.”

There was a thick air of silence that followed Techno’s statement.

“...Okay,” Phil spoke, choosing his words carefully. “Thank you for telling me, Techno.” He released a deep sigh, running a hand through his hair. “I’ll deal with it. You can go to your room.” His gaze flicked towards Tommy. “You too, Tommy.”

Tommy quickly scampered off to his room, pushing past Techno, who followed in suite. He walked slow, and everything felt heavy. He had expected this to lift a weight off his shoulders, but instead it felt like there was only more added to it. The feeling was back up in his throat again, and this time, it didn’t go down. He rushed to the bathroom, as quick as he could for someone who felt that they had a boulder on their shoulders, and leaned over the toilet, wretching. His hair fell in front of his face, but he didn’t care.

Maybe he made a mistake in telling Phil. Maybe he should’ve kept his mouth shut. His grip on the sides of the toilet tightened as he wretched again. If he could go back in time, he would.

Wiping his mouth with his sleeve, he swiftly left the bathroom and retreated into the safety of his own room. He could already hear Wilbur’s voice raising, and Phil attempting to speak as calmly as he could despite that. That was one thing Techno never understood about Phil. He rarely got mad, and even when he did, he wasn’t scary. He was moreso stern, while still being a very lenient parent in general.

Techno curled up on his mattress, pulling his pink blanket over his shoulders. He stared at his closet door, attempting to drown out the voices that just kept getting louder and louder. He shook, and tightened the blanket around himself. He knew it wouldn’t help- he wasn’t shaking because he was cold. It was summer.

His attempt to detach from the situation didn’t work for long, as Wilbur busted into his room, Phil hot on his tail.

“You fucking BITCH!” Wilbur snarled, grabbing something from one of Techno’s shelves and chucking it at him with full force. “Why would you snitch?!”

Techno was sitting up as soon as he heard Wilbur come in, and he shielded himself with his arms. The shaking only got worse.

“Wilbur!” Phil shouted, grabbing his wrist and pulling him back. He had been getting dangerously close to Techno, and that manic look in his eyes genuinely _scared_ Techno. That wasn’t Wilbur. That wasn’t his brother.

“I’m going to fucking KILL you, Techno! You’re a fucking liar!” Wilbur’s voice felt like sandpaper to Techno’s ears. It was loud, too loud.

“Leave your brother out of this, Wilbur!”

Wilbur was shaking with rage. Another door in the house quickly opened, and Tommy peeked his head in.

“What’s going on? Why is Wilbur yelling?” His voice was small, and he shrunk back when Wilbur whipped around to look at him.

“Oh, so we’re just gonna get the whole fucking family up in here?! Might as well throw a damn party!”

“Wilbur. Leave your brothers alone and come downstairs with me.” Phil’s voice was stern and unwavering.

The manic rage in Wilbur’s eyes as their gazes locked sent Techno into fight or flight response, and in this case, he acted on the latter option. Standing, he rushed to slip past Phil and Wilbur. He didn’t manage to slip past Tommy, though, as his brother gently grabbed his arm. He had a history of running, and this would be one of the worst times to relive history.

“That’s right, fucking run away! Leave! Fucking leave like you should’ve last year instead of throwing your fucking scholarship away because you’re a little BITCH!” Wilbur’s words stung Techno with a pain he hadn’t felt in ages.

“WILBUR!” Phil shouted. It echoed, leaving the house in complete silence. Phil didn’t yell. All three kids were shaking now. “Knock it the FUCK off, right now, and go downstairs!”

“No! I-” The previously found rage in Wilbur’s voice had completely vanished, a fearful tone taking its place.

“ _Now_.” Phil’s voice raised again, though not quite to a yell. It was enough, though, to get Wilbur to shut up. He let go of Wilbur’s wrist, and angrily motioned for him to get a move on. Wilbur moved swiftly, and Techno flinched as he walked past him, glaring.

Phil let out a sigh, turning to Tommy and Techno. “I’m sorry, you two. Go to your rooms for now, ok?” His voice was soft as silk now, and Techno could see the overwhelming worry in his eyes as he headed down the stairs. Tommy turned his head to look at Techno.

“Can I stay in your room?” He asked quietly. Techno nodded, and the two retreated into his room, shutting the door quietly. It didn’t help to block out the yelling from downstairs.

-

“Wilbur, I want you to know I’m not mad at you,” Phil began as he reached the bottom of the stairs. Wilbur shot him a glare from the couch.

“I don’t care. You’re still gonna take my shit,” He growled out. Phil ran a hand through his hair, sighing.

“Yes, I am. Because it’s not _healthy_ for you, not because I’m trying to make your life worse.” Phil sat down on the couch next to Wilbur, which only prompted Wilbur to scoot to the very end away from him.

“You’re still fucking ruining it.”

“No one’s ever died from not having nicotine. In fact, people die _from_ nicotine. Is that what you want, Wilbur? To end up in the hospital one day with lung cancer?” Phil’s voice was stern, but concerned. It made Wilbur feel sick.

“I dunno- maybe? What does it matter to you?” Wilbur crossed his arms, glaring at the photos on the wall. Photos from before he was even introduced to these kinds of things. Photos from before everything began to go to shit.

“It matters to me because you’re my son. I love you and it hurts me to see you like this.”

“Like what?” Wilbur snapped his gaze back to Phil. “I’m fucking _fine_ , Phil. Just because I’m vaping doesn’t mean I’m suddenly mentally ill or some shit.”

“But you’re not _just_ vaping, Wil. You’re smoking weed-”

“Weed’s used medically. It’s not bad,” Wilbur interrupted. Phil shot him a look.

“Don’t interrupt me, Wilbur,” he said in a stern tone that made Wilbur furrow his eyebrows and look away. “These types of things can lead to use of other substances. And in many cases, they do. I don’t want you to go down a path you won’t be able to escape.”

“Whatever.”

“It’s not whatever, Wilbur! You could seriously harm yourself by doing these things!” Phil’s voice raised. Wilbur winced. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to raise my voice at you, but you need to understand how terrifying this can be. For me, and for your brothers.”

Wilbur didn’t say anything, instead deciding to pick at his fingernails. Phil sighed, standing up.

“You’re grounded. I don’t know for how long. Go get your stuff and give it to me.”

“No.”

“You can either give me your stuff voluntarily, or I’ll go through your room and find it myself.” Phil was dead serious. Huffing, Wilbur got up, practically storming up to his room. He grabbed the bag of disposables from under his bed and the cart Schlatt gave him before heading back downstairs and handing them to Phil. He could see the disappointment flash in his eyes as he saw the ridiculous amount of disposables in the bag.

“Thank you. You can go up to your room now.”

Phil didn’t have to speak twice before Wilbur was back up in his room, slamming the door shut.


	5. are you bothered? what's the problem here?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whoops didn't realize it'd been a month since i last updated. my bad y'all
> 
> chap title from greetings from california by the neighbourhood

“Tech, do you know where Wilbur got his stuff from?”

Techno glanced away from his laptop, locking eyes with Phil for a brief moment. He hesitated before answering.

“Uh, I’m pretty sure he gets them from Schlatt?” Techno averted his gaze, chewing on his bottom lip. He already felt bad for telling Phil about Wilbur smoking weed, and he knew that Wilbur would become even more pissed at him for telling Phil how he got weed. He had to constantly remind himself that it was for Wilbur’s own good. He wasn’t going to risk Wilbur spiraling, even if Wilbur hated him for it.

“Okay, thanks, Tech.” A sigh slipped from Phil’s lips. “Do you need anything?”

Techno shook his head. “No, I’m alright.”

“Alright, come get me if you do.” With that, Phil left his room, leaving Techno to sit with his own thoughts.

He quickly turned to Minecraft to ignore them, grinding on the family realm. He mined out a huge underground area, giving himself a goal to gather chests full of one specific material and fill the entire area with chests.

He spent the rest of the night collecting materials, fighting the exhaustion and nagging voice in the back of his head.

-

Wilbur felt sick.

It was mostly due to the withdrawals, but the fact that Techno ratted him out was most definitely contributing to it. He had trusted Techno, and Techno had _promised_ him that he wouldn’t snitch.

Techno was full of shit, Wilbur concluded.

He spent the next couple of days dealing with the peak of his withdrawals and actively avoiding his family. He didn’t understand why they were all so in his business- he was only smoking weed, and what was the harm in that? It wasn’t like he was going to try other drugs, no matter how convinced Techno was that he would. Techno was a dumbass who was trying to ruin his life.

He was startled out of his thoughts by Phil calling everyone downstairs for dinner. He groaned, dragging himself out of bed. Dinner was the worst part of every day. Phil refused to let him eat upstairs in his room, but being with his family made his skin crawl.

By the time he got downstairs, Techno and Tommy were already there, fixing their plates and settling down at the table. His chest burned, and he made his plate before sitting down as far away from everyone as possible.

“So, Wil- how’re you doing?” Techno spoke up, gaze resting on Wilbur.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Wilbur spat, shooting Techno a sharp look.

“Wilbur, be nice to Techno,” Phil warned. “He’s worried about you.”

“We all are,” Tommy added.

“What, worried because I smoked weed a couple times?” Wilbur retorted, rolling his eyes.

The air around the dinner table tensed more than it already was.

“And because apparently, you’ve been vaping as well. Both are bad for you, Wil, you know this,” Phil’s tone softened, and Wilbur’s blood boiled at the look he received from him.

“There’s not even any proof that vaping’s that bad for you. And weed’s used medically,” Wilbur argued.

“Don’t give me that bullshit. Weed is prescribed, usually for anxiety, which you don’t have. Vapes have nicotine, and there are various studies that show it’s bad for your body.”

Wilbur furrowed his eyebrows. He couldn’t argue with Phil, he realized. Phil knew what he was talking about. He knew what he could do instead of arguing, though.

Wilbur stood, glaring at Phil from across the table. “I’m going back to my room.”

“Wilbur, don’t be like this- stay and eat with us.”

“Fuck off, I’m not eating with you guys.” Wilbur flipped them off before storming upstairs and slamming his door. He hopped onto his bed, grabbing his phone from his bedside table and opening his messages with Schlatt.

Wilbur: can you sneak me nic tonight

Wilbur: at like 11 when everyone’s asleep, i’ll grab it from the back

When Schlatt didn’t respond for around half an hour, Wilbur’s thoughts began to gnaw at him.

Wilbur: don’t fucking ignore me dude

Wilbur: i need nic cmon we’re not gonna get caught

Wilbur: i’ll pay you extra too

Schlatt: wil im already not allowed over, we’re fucked if your dad catches you

Schlatt: are you seriously willing to put our friendship on the line for fucking nicotine?

Wilbur: he’s not gonna catch me

Wilbur: just one dispo

Wilbur: pretty please?

Schlatt: you’re insufferable

Schlatt: i’ll be there at 12

-

Schlatt was at the back door at 12, as promised, a disposable vape in hand. Wilbur quietly slid the door open, taking the vape and shoving it in his pocket before handing Schlatt a twenty.

“I’m gonna kill your dumbass if you get caught,” Schlatt whispered, taking the twenty. Wilbur rolled his eyes.

“I won’t get caught. If I do, I’ll just say I got it from a different dealer,” Wilbur whispered back. Schlatt scrunched up his nose.

“Your dad wouldn’t believe that for a second.”

“He might, who knows.” Wilbur shrugged. “Anyways, thanks. I’ll see you at school on Tuesday?”

“If I don’t skip, yeah.”

Wilbur shot Schlatt a hard look. “You better fucking not.”

“Fine. _Just_ for you, I’ll go. But we’re ditching in the bathroom, got it?”

Wilbur chuckled. “Sounds good. Cya then.” With that, he slid the door shut and watched as Schlatt hopped the fence before he made his way back up to his room.

He hit his newly obtained vape, sighing as the buzz hit him and he slipped into a peaceful sleep.

-

“Do you have all your stuff Tommy?” Phil asked, rushing to grab his keys. He’d woken up late, and school started in 15 minutes. “Binders, pencils, books?”

“For the last time, _yes-_ ” Tommy huffed, crossing his arms. “My backpack weighs, like, a hundred bricks.

Techno snorted. “That’s high school for you, Tommy. Have fun carrying that around all day,” He teased.

“Wait, what? We don’t put everything in our lockers?”

“Dude, you’ll have no time for that. Classes are so far away from the lockers most of the time,” Techno spoke as if that were obvious. Tommy hadn’t attended freshman orientation, so he was absolutely unprepared, despite how much he had been trying to convince himself he was.

“Enough chit-chat, we’ve gotta go- Where’s Wilbur?” Phil looked around, eyebrows furrowed in stress.

“WILBUR!” Tommy yelled, and Techno cringed back at his loud voice. Wilbur appeared at the top of the stairway, worn grey messenger bag hung over his shoulder.

“I’m coming, you don’t need to yell.” Wilbur shot Tommy a look.

Tommy rolled his eyes, making his hand talk and mocking him in a high pitched voice, “ _I’m coming, you don’t need to yell. My name’s Wilbur and I’m a massive prick-_ ” Tommy’s mocking was interrupted by a smack on the head from Wilbur.

“Shut up. Let’s go.”

Techno watched as the three rushed out the door and piled into Phil’s old, ugly green car. They’d all, at some point, tried to convince Phil to get a new car, but that car was practically Phil’s fourth child. It had a whole lot of memories tied to it as well, so Techno could understand where he was coming from by not getting rid of it. The car was _old_ , though, to the point where Techno was surprised it still worked.

As soon as he watched the car turn the street corner, a feeling of dread settled in the pit of his stomach. Phil would be heading to work immediately after dropping Wilbur and Tommy off at school. He’d be alone until around 3:30 in the afternoon. It would be so easy for him to pack his bags, hop on the nearest bus, and leave town. He could vanish without a trace, and his family wouldn’t know for hours.\

Techno’s gut twisted. Where were these thoughts coming from? He didn’t want to run away, but it was his first instinct when things started to take a turn for the worse. He’d ran away from every single foster home he’d been in. He’d ran away twice when he was first fostered by Phil in fear that Phil would be just like the other foster parents he’d been put with. He’d ran away again, a couple years later, when he fell into a deep depression and his brain nagged him with horrible, intrusive thoughts that scared him so bad he felt he had no other choice but to run. He couldn’t run away again.

Or rather, he could, but he knew better by now. Knowing better didn’t always mean he had to listen to his better thought, though.

He had his bags packed within an hour, and was out of town by the next.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you all so so much for all the comments on the last chapter, i tend to not respond due to anxiety but i read every single one and they make my day :) its crazy to me how many people are genuinely interested in this story


End file.
